Dean's Birthday Bites
by JazMitch
Summary: It's a very special day, one that's supposed to keep Dean Winchester on top of the world. But what would the Winchester Luck be like if It allowed that? Chaos ensues and so it's decided; Turning 8 bites! Wee!Chester one shot, featuring Ridley's Brotherhood characters.


_Dean's Birthday Bites!_

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Supernatural belongs to the evil Kripke, and the awesome Brotherhood characters belong to Ridley C James.

Thanks again to _**sallydeathhands**_and _**Wraithdarte **_for being my editors and my cheering squad. They're amazing. Google them. Immediately. Thanks to Ridley C James for the use of her Brotherhood characters.

Please review!

###

"I don't see why I have to stay here the _whole _time, Dad," Caleb Reaves complained through the phone. _No offense, _he mouthed quickly to Pastor Jim, who was standing a little ways off, grinning genially at him.

The teen had been suspended from school for fighting, and for the duration of his suspension, since Mac had left town with John on Brotherhood business, he was at Pastor Jim's farm house. To, _quote unquote, think long and hard about school_ _being a privilege and not_ _a punishment_. Caleb had tried everything from begging to arguing to bargaining, since he would be missing Tyra Jackson's party, but Mac would hear none of it. _'Maybe now you'll think twice before reacting in impulsive anger,' _he had remarked sagely.

Which is how he had ended up here, with the Pastor, and the Winchester boys. Dean and Sam were also here, staying for a month though, schooling here, since John had a hunt lined up for immediately after he was done with his Knightly duties. Normally, he never minded spending time with the Winchester boys; 3 year old Sammy was a blessed shred of childish innocence to enjoy, and in perfect honesty, the 7 year old Dean had become incredibly adept at verbally sparring with Caleb and actually had a scary good hand for poker, so more often than not, he found he preferred Deuce's company over that of his friends.

Not that he would acknowledge that in the middle of a fight, and definitely not to his father.

"You have to stay there to whole time because that is what we arranged, son," Mac replied amiably. "Unless you want to sleep outside our apartment building and attend your friend's party with the same clothes, sans shower."

"Oh, come on, Dad!" Caleb groaned. "It's not fair; I can't be stuck here the whole time with only the rugrats for company! I'm not even getting paid for putting up with them."

"You're being a spoilt brat, Caleb," Mac's uncharacteristically stern voice cut across Caleb's whine. "What if the boys had heard you?"

"They can't…" Caleb dismissed, turning around and freezing at the sight of the wide-eyed green gaze that pierced him with its sadness and anger.

Yeah. They can.

"God, Dad, I have to call you back," Caleb said quickly as Dean turned on his heel and headed for the stairs. Not waiting for his dad to reply, Caleb hung up and ran after his friend.

"Deuce, I didn't…"

"It's okay, Caleb," the green eyes that met his now were cool and guarded, and the use of his real name hit the back of Caleb's throat like spoiled milk, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Dean headed up to the room he shared with Sammy, and Pastor Jim's hand on his shoulder stopped Caleb from following. Jim's eyes, though sparkling with mirth just a few minutes ago, looked troubled.

"Let me," Pastor Jim requested. Caleb nodded, sighing noisily through his teeth. The doorbell sounded and Caleb volunteered to get it while Jim spoke to Dean.

Opening the door to reveal a little girl in pigtails was not something even Caleb could have foreseen.

"Hi there, Cutie," Caleb grinned at the little girl who smiled back sunnily, a small gap where her front tooth should be. In her hands she held a blue wrapped box.

"Hello!" she said shyly. "I came to drop this off for Dean." Smiling sweetly, she held out the box to Caleb. The teen grinned inwardly; that sly dog! He was going to have to have a talk with Deuce as soon as the kid forgave him; who the hell knew the kid was breaking hearts already? Pride resounded from Caleb's grin.

"I'll be sure to give it to him," Caleb promised, and the girl smiled, hazel eyes shining.

"Thanks, Mister!" she exclaimed. "Please tell him I said to have a great day, and thanks again for saving Toby!"

"Toby?" Caleb couldn't help the curiosity that sparked in his mind.

"My little brother," the girl explained. "Dean stopped stupid Marcus from bullying him! And when I heard what today was, I told my Mommy we just _HAD _to get Dean a gift!"

"Today?" the quizzical murmur escaped the teen before he could stop it. With an enthusiastic wave and another pretty smile, the girl ran off before he could ask her. Smiling ruefully, Caleb shut the door and, disregarding the privacy breach, read the little address on the box.

"Oh, _crap…_" he murmured, aghast, reading the wobbly scrawl.

Mac was right. He _was_ being a spoiled brat. God he was a moron!

###

"DEE!"

Dean grinned in spite of his anger, as his three year old little brother's face split into a smile upon seeing him. Sammy got up unsteadily and ran to Dean, who caught him in a hug.

"Hey Squirt," Dean ruffled the floppy brown mop of hair affectionately. All of a sudden, a wave of dizziness crashed over him. He had been feeling really hot under the collar for the last hour or so. Nausea churned his stomach and he absently rubbed his thumb against the spider bite he'd gotten at school earlier. Could that be the cause of his burgeoning weakness?

"Hap' birwday, Dee," Sammy smiled up at him, and Dean's heart melted. Who cared if Dad forgot his birthday again? He had Sammy. Sure, he had been the one to tell Sammy that morning, what day it was, but just having Sammy to wish him, Dean found, was more than enough.

"Thanks Sammy," he smiled, fighting past the pain. "Guess what? I have a surprise for you."

"S'prise?" Sammy's eyes grew round and bright. "But, not my birwday, Dee."

"Sure," Dean laughed a little, "but how about you get my surprise for me, this year?"

"Okay!" Sammy clapped excitedly. With a grin, the older brother pulled out the bar of chocolate his teacher had given him from his bag.

"Dee!" Sammy stopped him opening it, wide eyes serious. "I gots a s'prise for you too!"

"Yeah?" Dean chuckled. "What would that be?"

"I made Pastow Jim teach me for Daddy's birwday," Sammy said proudly, "and I still 'member!"

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean smiled. He was glad Sammy hadn't mentioned it was his birthday; he hadn't wanted anything to remind Jim and put undue pressure on him while he was under stress about whatever Brotherhood business had taken his dad and Mac away. Dean settled them both back on the floor and motioned for Sam to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Sammy began to sing, slightly out of tune,

"_Hap' birwday to Dee!  
Hap birwday to Dee!  
Hap' birwday deaw Dee…  
Lotsa love fwum Sammy!"_

Dean laughed out loud at the last line, and the gleeful look on his brother's face as he dragged out the _'SamMEEEE'_. Pulling the toddler into a huge hug, Dean ignored the stinging in his eyes; the last time anyone had sung for him was his mom. Dad forgot his fifth and sixth birthdays, had been injured on his seventh, and although he had promised year after year to make it up to him, he was absent for Dean's eighth now too.

Pushing the depressing thoughts from his mind, he ripped the candy bar open with his teeth and broke it in two pieces, giving Sammy the slightly bigger one.

"Thanks, Sammy," he said, his voice slightly thick. "That was the absolute best birthday surprise I've ever had."

"Weally?" Sam's eyes lit up as he accepted the chocolate.

"Really," he winked.

"Oh, Dean, son…"

The muted murmur from behind him startled Dean. Before registering what was happening, he was on his feet and pushing Sam's tiny body behind his. He relaxed when he saw Pastor Jim at the doorway but his relief was short-lived when he realized that the older man had heard everything. He bit his lip guiltily as Pastor Jim looked at him, some strong emotion Dean couldn't identify smoldering in his eyes.

"Pastow Jim?" Sammy's face poked out from behind Dean and belatedly, the now-eight year old stepped aside to let Sammy out from behind his body shield. The toddler regarded Pastor Jim with honest curiosity and maybe a little sadness on behalf of his brother. "Why you fowget Dee's birwday? Why Daddy and C'leb and Mac and Unca Bobby fowget too?"

"Aw, Sammy," Dean groaned, "don't make Pastor Jim feel bad. He's real busy, he's got a lot of stuff to do."

"No," the Pastor shook his head, sadness and self-reproach rolling off him. "He's right. I'm so sorry, Dean. I have no excuse."

"It's okay, Pastor Jim," Dean muttered, embarrassed at the Pastor's self-recrimination. "After everything you've done for us? You gave us a family again, Pastor Jim." Dean gestured helplessly around him. "A home. I think you've covered my next 50 birthdays."

Pastor Jim felt awed by the child's humility and purity of heart. Any other boy his age would have demanded expensive toys and lavish outings.

"No, my boy," the older hunter moved to kneel in front of Dean. "It's your birthday, and I forgot. I apologize, I was caught up in work, but that's never an excuse."

"I'm used to it, Pastor Jim, really." The words meant to comfort struck Jim even harder. Swallowing his inner disappointment in himself, and largely in John Winchester, he reached out and ruffled Dean's hair.

"Well, I'm going to make it up to you. Why don't you and Sammy put your jackets on? We'll go out for dinner and have ice cream after, and you can even choose where we eat."

"Weally?" Sammy asked, eyes lighting up.

"Yes indeed," Jim winked at the boys. "Where would you like to go, Dean?"

"Actually Pastor Jim, I'd be just fine eating here," Dean shrugged, favoring the old hunter with a megawatt Dean Winchester grin, although didn't it look just slightly pained and weakened? "Although Sammy loves ice cream, so maybe we could go out to get some after?"

Jim would never cease to be amazed at the boy's simplicity. He could ask for the world, and yet all he requested was something as much, if not more, for his little brother's benefit than his own.

"Anything you want, my boy," Jim replied warmly.

"Where do _you _want to go for ice cream Sammy?" Dean asked, taking the toddler's hand to pull him to the wardrobe. Getting his jacket, Dean gestured for Sammy to hold his arms out. "You can pick, you're my birthday helper for the day."

"I am?" the littlest Winchester's eyes lit up like the fourth of July. "Thanks, Dee!"

"No problem, Squirt," Dean winked, ruffling the kid's hair after zipping his jacket. Another wave of dizziness and nausea rocked through him, this time making his knees buckle. He couldn't stop his cry of pain escaping his mouth as he sank unsteadily to the ground, his side hitting the edge of the dresser hard on his way down. Shivers racked his body and a fine sheen of sweat beaded his face as the mounting fever broke out. He barely registered Sam's cries and Jim's shouts, everything swimming around him, before it all suddenly went blissfully dark and oh so quiet.

###

If it hadn't of been the flash of pain in his head, it would have been Jim's yelling and Sam's crying that alerted Caleb to the commotion upstairs. Dread welling in him, he took the stairs two at a time, present forgotten on the counter.

"Caleb, call an ambulance!" Jim ordered grimly, leaning over an unconscious Dean while Sammy held his hand, crying in fear.

The sight hit him like a physical punch to the gut. He sprinted out, flying down the stairs, his feet barely touching the ground in his haste. Grabbing his phone with trembling hands, Caleb willed his friend to be okay.

"911 operator, what's your emergency?"

"My little brother!" Caleb burst out, his voice panicked and breathless. "He's unconscious, I don't know what happened! You have to send an ambulance, quick!"

"Calm down, son, can you tell me if your brother is breathing?"

"I don't know!" Caleb shouted, running back up the stairs. Thrusting the phone into Pastor Jim's hands, Caleb slid to his knees next to Dean. Pulling the unresponsive, burning boy on to his lap, he gently patted his cheek. "C'mon, Deuce," he begged, "wake up, Kid. Please…please…please…"

Nothing.

"C'leb…" the three year old moaned in terror, hiccupping sobs ripping from him as he held his arms out. "I wan' Dee."

"Dean's going to be fine, Runt," Caleb told the toddler, praying to whatever might have been listening that it would be true. He carded his fingers through Dean's hair before pressing two fingers to the side of his throat.

He thanked God for the steady thrum under his fingers.

Spotting an angry lump on Dean's hand, Caleb didn't need to feel around it to know it was the source of the boy's progressing fever.

"Jim, he has a spider bite," Caleb told the guardian urgently, who quickly relayed the information to the woman on the line.

In a flash of white, paramedics stormed the room, taking Dean away from Caleb's grasp. Helplessness burning a hole through him, the teen picked Sammy up, cradling and soothing the distraught boy as they secured Dean to a stretcher.

"I want to come with," he demanded the medic, handing a slightly calmer Sam to Jim.

"Family" he asked.

"That's my little brother," Caleb said firmly. "I'm coming."

The man nodded and Jim grabbed his own keys. "I'll meet you at the hospital," he told the teen. "And don't worry, I'll phone John and Mackland on the way."

Caleb nodded mutely, not taking his eyes off his too-still friend's face.

_C'mon Deuce, wake up. I'm sorry I forgot the date today. I'm so sorry. Wake up and you can take a swing at me. Or tell me I suck. Or call me an asshat. Anything._

_Please, Deuce. Please._

###

Something was off.

John Winchester felt his muscles tense and his mind snap to attention as a feeling of disquiet settled in his chest. The entire day, he'd had this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he'd forgotten something important, but damn if he could remember what.

Mac and him had concluded their little business transaction with relative ease. John's presence was merely a deterrent; an incentive for their sources to go about the business smoothly and without any plotting. They had finished up earlier than expected and both looked forward to surprising their boys by coming home early. John missed his boys tremendously and was grateful he'd get to see them before that hunt in Saint Louis.

They were about 6 hours out when the feeling constricted John's chest almost painfully. He sped up, feeling an overwhelming urgency to get to his boys. Mac sent a quizzical look his way.

The shrill ring of his phone might as well have been sirens.

John grabbed his cell. "Winchester," he barked into it.

"John…" Jim's breathless voice spurred John on as he increased the speed ever more. "It's Dean."

"What happened?" John choked out grimly. Mac immediately started. Before Ames could fire inane questions at him, he added, "I'm putting you on speaker."

"Dean just collapsed," Jim reported. "I'm on my way to the hospital now. Caleb and Samuel are fine. We think it may have something to do with a spider bite Dean received."

"Was he breathing?" Mac asked with a professionalism that belied his frantic concern for the little boy he considered a surrogate son. "Did he have a fever? How long was he sporting that bite?"

"Yes, yes, and I don't know," Jim fired off in quick succession. "John, you need to get here."

"We're about five and a half hours out," Ames reported. Fierce determination and fear fueling the oldest Winchester, he stated in a deadly cold voice.

"I'll be there in 3."

###

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Ugh, would somebody please shoot that Godawful thing? _Dean moaned inwardly, slowly becoming aware of the beeping near his ear. Little by little, his awareness increased, first registering his arm wound around the small, warm lump curled into his side, then the tight grip on his left hand, and a small weight resting on his leg. Instinctively, he knew Sammy was curled into him and he reflexively tightened his arm; God knew he didn't want the kid to fall off. Taking a deep breath, he forced his eyes to flutter open, the bright overhead lights a drastic change from the blanket of darkness.

Damien was holding his hand, and had fallen asleep with his head against Dean's leg. Whatever happened, it must have been bad for Caleb to respond emotionally. Trying not to move, wary of waking his friend, he cast his gaze around the blue room, painted nauseatingly colorfully with pictures of Mickey Mouse and Popeye and Thundercats.

_God, what was he, four?_

"Samuel was especially taken with the room's décor, I can't imagine why you're sneering, Dean."

Pastor Jim's quiet murmur alerted Dean to his presence at the doorway. He managed a tired quirk of his lips.

"Safe to say me and Sammy have different tastes, Skin Horse," he grinned as Pastor Jim laughed.

"Indeed. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Dean waved it off. "A little weak," he conceded, seeing the stern look on Jim's face, "but fine."

"You gave us all quite a scare, Son," Jim admonished gently. "You reacted to that little spider bite. Seems you're allergic, but thankfully, you were brought in before the anaphylaxis worsened. Why didn't you say you were feeling ill?"

"I didn't want to make a fuss," Dean shrugged guiltily. "I'm sorry. Did Sammy get very scared?"

"He did," the pastor nodded, and Dean sighed in self-reproach. Carding his fingers through Sam's curls, he wasn't surprised to see the kid sucking his thumb. Gently, he pried it away and Sam's eyes opened blearily.

"Dee?" he mumbled, only marginally awake. At the movement, Caleb stirred, coming awake far quicker.

"Deuce!" Caleb was on his feet in an instant. "How are you feeling kid?"

"I'm fine," Dean assured the teen, "just tired."

"Dee!" More aware now, Sammy pushed himself up and threw his arms around Dean's neck. Laughing breathlessly into Sam's back, Dean wrapped an arm around his little brother to make sure he didn't fall. "You okay?" he asked, leaning back and tenderly patting Dean's cheek with a chubby hand.

"I'm okay, Buddy," Dean smiled. "You okay?"

"Okay," Sam nodded, cuddling back into Dean's side.

"If you're both okay, I think we should blow this joint." The voice from the doorway had an immediate effect on Dean and Sam, the older brother feeling the ache in his chest fill out some and the younger forgetting any notions of tiredness.

"Dad!"

"Daddy!"

"Hey boys," John walked in, smiling gently, exhaustion written clearly on his features. He nodded to Jim, going straight to his boys.

"I thought…" Jim sounded puzzled.

"Apparently he can make it in 2 and a half when he's driving like a maniac," Mac cut in, following John in and shaking Jim's hand before moving to Caleb. Sam jumped into John's arms and he smoothly caught him, adjusting his hold so he could reach out to Dean too.

"You doing okay, Ace?" John asked, cupping the side of the boy's neck and squeezing slightly.

"Fine, Dad," he managed another grin. "You're home! I thought you had a hunt."

"Not for a little while," John said dismissively. A rare grin came across his face as he ruffled his eldest's hair. "You know Ace, if you wanted the Jell-O, you could've just asked." Dean grinned ruefully.

"No way, Johnny," Caleb rejoined with a smirk. "He's obviously in it for the sponge baths with those hot nurses."

"Isn't it obvious to you guys that this is all about skipping school?" Dean mock-sighed with a grin.

"Argh!" John huffed tenderly, lightly, cuffing Dean on the side of his head. "I knew there was some kind of plot. You're getting cunning in your old age, Ace."

"He's a Winchester," Mac chimed in, smiling at Dean. "What did you expect? He's learning from his old man."

"Watch who you're calling old, Ames!" John retorted. "At least my bones don't creak every time I pick up a book!"

"Like you would ever pick up a book, Johnny," Caleb quipped, knowing he would be running laps for three days for interfering.

"He, unlike you, at least knows how to read, Damien," Dean joined in, smirking at his friend. Jim sighed gustily before anyone could continue the playful banter of Father-and-Son versus Father-and-Son.

"Ah, young Samuel," he took Sam from John's arms. "It seems we're surrounded by hooligans."

Sammy giggled, putting his hands on either side of Jim's face. "No ice cweam for them!" he cheered.

"Hey!" All four of them exclaimed in unison.

"On'y for Dee," Sammy amended, twisting to grin at his older brother. "Dee my favowite hoo'gan."

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean grinned.

"You're just saying that 'cause Deuce gets you food," Caleb complained.

"Food!" Sammy cheered, bursting into renewed giggles at Dean's groan. Stretching out his arms towards Dean, the toddler demanded to be put back in his original spot. "Dee my favowite," he repeated, throwing his arms around his brother in a hug.

"Kid doesn't know what he's saying," Caleb sniffed, grinning at his best friend.

"Shwut up, Caweb!" Sammy pointed an imperious finger at Caleb before bursting into fresh giggles.

Even _if _Caleb had a response other than the comical dropping of his jaw, it definitely wouldn't have been heard over the uproarious laughter surrounding him.

###

"Hey, Deuce, I smuggled you in some MNMs," Caleb grinned a few hours later, revealing his spoils that were tucked firmly up his sleeve. "Ah, voila!" he grinned, winking. John and Jim were filling in papers and Mac was talking to Dean's doctor about getting the boy discharged.

"Finally," Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeesh, took you long enough, Damien."

Dean sat up, pleased when next to no dizziness accompanied the motion. Before he gave his treat up, Caleb pulled him into an uncharacteristic hug.

"I'm glad you're okay, Deuce," he said, letting Dean go with a light hair ruffle. "And I'm sorry about your birthday, Kiddo. I can't believe I was such a jackass."

"It's okay, dude," Dean grinned. "I'm not so lucky, birthday-wise. It's tanked for a while now. I think we gotta ignore it from here on in. It's alright."

"No it isn't," Caleb shook his head. "But it will be, since I didn't technically forget." He pulled a clumsily wrapped box from behind him. He had bought it weeks prior, had it at Jim's and everything, but had forgotten, and had asked Mac to swing by the house and fetch it before coming to the hospital, along with Dean's classmate's gift.

"Thanks, Damien!" Dean's eyes lit up at the gift. Tearing into it, Caleb was pleased to see the kid's eyes go wide with excitement. "Dude, this is awesome!" Dean handled the miniature model of the '67 Impala with infinite care. Down to the last detail, it was perfect, and…

"It was made from old bullet rounds from a Winchester rifle," Caleb revealed, grinning. "It would've been a cardinal sin if I hadn't of gotten it for you."

Dean's green eyes lit up at the revelation and he handled the model almost lovingly.

_I swear, _Caleb grinned to himself, _one day, this boy is going to have an unhealthy relationship with that Impala._

"Thanks, man, this is awesome," he smiled genuinely, conveying with his eyes what Caleb knew couldn't be expressed properly with words.

"Guess we're gonna have to keep doing that birthday thing, huh?" Caleb grinned.

"Well, it does mean that Dean gets the first and an extra slice of my famous apple pie tonight," Jim walked in, followed closely by Mac and John.

"And it means that I won't have to return that catcher's mitt, and the doctor won't have to keep Dean here the night," Mac added.

"And it means that I wouldn't have to keep that '83 Topps Tony Gwynn rookie card you been looking around for, for a whole 'nother year," John grinned.

"Then again," Dean hastened to amend with a grin, deftly pulling Sammy up to the bed as he tried to jump on to it with a giggle, "birthdays don't always bite."


End file.
